Exile As A Mode Of

The Country Of The Tourist Pamphlet Always Is Another Country, An Embarrassing Abstraction Of The Desirable That, Thank God, Does Not Exist On This Planet, Where There Are Always Ants And Bad Smells And Empty Coca-cola Bottles To Keep The Grubby Finger-print Of Reality Upon The Beautiful.

People Give One Another Things That Can't Be Gift Wrapped.

Peace. The Upland Serenity Of High Altitude, The Openness Of Grassland Without Indigenous Bush Or Trees; The Greening, Yellowing Or Silver-browning That Prevailed, According To Season.

Certainly The People Who Are Close To Me Are Happier. They Feel Freer.

If People Would Forget About Utopia! When Rationalism Destroyed Heaven And Decided To Set It Up Here On Earth, That Most Terrible Of All Goals Entered Human Ambition. It Was Clear There'd Be No End To What People Would Be Made To Suffer For It.